Dreamboat
by SaraHadj
Summary: Carolyn is bothered by something, and the Captain must know what it is.


I don't own any rights to Ghost and Mrs. Muir. If I owned the rights, I'd make high quality DVD sets so more people could get hooked on the show. I make no money from this story. I write it only to get it out of my head and provide continuing episodes for GAMM fans like me.

Dreamboat

"Madam, I've noticed that your thoughts seem to be far away this afternoon." He held his glass up to the light and checked the clarity of his Madeira. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, Captain. Not wrong. I'm just a bit distracted." She stroked her hair towards her face.

"Is there something I can help you with, madam? Something you wish to talk about?"

"Hmm? No…yes-no, it's nothing, really."

"As you wish, madam," he said as he sat next to her and rested his arm on the back of the sofa behind her. She hated that, because it always distracted her, unsettled her thoughts, and right now, that's the last thing she needed. She looked into his slightly tipped face, with those oh-so-attractive eyes which were now staring at her inquisitively.

"Well, I…well, I know that you can give suggestions to people in their sleep, but I was thinking about your ability to create dreams in people. I was wondering…if you can do that any time you want."

He stroked his beard and looked away as he answered. "Yes, I believe so. I haven't used that ability much. I don't think it's something I should do – invade thoughts uninvited. There was that Christmas dream, though, which I was lead to believe, and which I hope still holds true, that everyone enjoyed." He looked back into her green eyes with concern. "That is true, isn't it, madam?"

"Oh, yes," she answered quickly. "I didn't mean to get you thinking that was a problem in any way. It's just that…"she stopped.

He leaned closer to her in concern.

"It's just that, um, well, I told you about that dream I had when I was sick where I was a ghost and you weren't…"She looked to him for confirmation.

Yes, I believe you said we were at a cotillion, with you in a ball gown and I in my dress uniform, and, as I recall you telling me, I waltzed beautifully." He smiled slyly and rubbed his earlobe.

She smiled and lowered her gaze, embarrassed by the strong feelings she was afraid would slip and show from her eyes, her posture, her heartbeat. "I'm curious, Captain. You had nothing to do with that dream, did you?"

"No, madam." He nodded and slightly raised his brows. "But it did sound like a wonderful dream." His voice was rich, warm, caressing. "One I wish very much I could have shared with you."

She looked again into his eyes and wondered how he ever made them sparkle so. Maybe it was a ghost thing. "And…"she hesitated.

He waited patiently.

"And you haven't given me any dreams since the Christmas one, have you?"

"No madam. Have you had another?"

"I have lots of dreams, Captain."

"About me?" He puffed his chest out and grinned at her.

"About a lot of people…the children, Martha, you, even Scruffy." She laughed and tried to cover her embarrassment, but could feel her face flush.

He rose and brought back the Madeira, and poured her another glass. "Is it another dream that has you so distracted, Madam?" She took a second glass willingly, hoping to stall while she thought of a way to get out of his question. "Madam?"

"There was another dream, about the same, really. That's all. So I was wondering if it was me or you creating it." She made a pretense of looking at her watch. "Oh, look at the time. I really need to go down and make sure the kids are doing their homework. Maybe we can talk more about it next week, Captain." She took a small sip of the newly poured glass and then put it down.

"Madam…"

"Thanks for the Madeira, Captain." She rushed out the door, closing it behind her. Once in the hall, she exhaled sharply, blowing her bangs up in the air. It was far from over, she knew.

********

There was homework, and dinner, and bath time, and children's bedtime, and then she was alone in "her" bedroom. She dressed for bed in the closet, as usual. Then as she brushed her hair, the mirror showed his stoic appearance standing a distance behind her.

"Good evening, Captain."

"Good evening, Madam." He stepped towards her, and she knew what was coming next.

"Madam, I couldn't help but notice that you seemed rather distressed today, and I am quite sure that it was the result of the dream you had."

He was right behind her now. Her thoughts were beginning to scatter due to his closeness. "Really, Captain. It's nothing. I was being a silly female, as you would say." She hoped appealing to his chauvinistic side would pacify his questions. "I'm fine now." She put down her hairbrush and headed for her bed.

"Madam, I refuse to leave this be. You need to solve this problem, and I can help, no doubt."

She turned back the covers of the bed, grabbed one of the pillows, and began fluffing it. "Captain, I appreciate your male attitude of trying to fix things, but there's nothing to fix. I'M FINE!" She was now fluffing with great energy.

"You see, you are upset right now." He crossed his arms and huffed. "Why don't you confide in me and let me help you solve this problem. Whatever has happened in this dream can be confronted."

"Nothing that _has_ happened is bothering me right now. It's actually what's happening right _now _that's getting my goat."

"Madam, please, _tell me_ what it was about your dream that bothered you so."

"Captain!" She threw the pillow towards him in exasperation, and it flew right through him.

He looked at her in shock and anger. "Madam! I am only trying to help, and this is the thanks I get." His eyes flashed, the thunder flashed, and the pillow raised off of the floor and started back at her. She saw it coming, and stood frozen with her mouth open in disbelief as the pillow sailed straight for her head, but stopped a few feet from her and dropped onto the bed. "Goodnight!" he said with his eyes still squinting in anger.

"Goodnight!" she called back, and harrumphed at him. "Pleasant dreams!" she sneered as he disappeared with his fists raised to the heavens.

Once he was gone, her head hung low. He was right, after all. It was a dream that was bothering her so. But her feelings about it were too personal to speak to him. Now she was upset and her head ached. It was going to be a long restless night.

**********

The next morning took forever to arrive. More than half of the night she laid there awake, staring at the ceiling, looking up towards the widow's walk where perhaps he was pacing. She contemplated more than once finding him and asking his forgiveness of her actions, especially since he was right all along. Surely just having to admit to that would make him almost giddy. But admitting he was right would bring up another subject – the dream, and the reason for it making her so distracted. And so she would put off the idea of reconciliation for as long as possible.

**********

Bleary eyed and exhausted, she headed down for coffee. She could smell it at the top of the stairs, strong, just the way she liked it. She rounded the corner to the kitchen and saw Martha reloading the plates of the children with eggs and bacon.

"Good morning." As she sat at the table, she tried to sound cheery, but really felt horrible inside.

"Morning Mom" both the children piped. She held out her cup as Martha loaded it with the thick, black liquid.

"My, my. Don't you look like something the cat dragged in," Martha commented.

"Nice to see you this morning, too, Martha," she replied.

"Bad dreams?" Martha asked as she went to the stove for more food.

"What did you say, Martha?" she asked in disbelief.

"Bad dreams. I asked if you had bad dreams."

"Why did you ask that? Did someone say something about bad dreams?"

"I had a bad dream last night. I dreamed that pirates were chasing me around the house!' Jonathan piped up.

"I had a bad dream last week. There were dirty worms all by the television," commented Candy.

"Well, no one had said anything about bad dreams before you asked me if anyone said anything about bad dreams, at least." Martha dished out eggs and bacon for Carolyn.

"Is something wrong, Mrs. Muir? You don't seem yourself."

"No, nothing is wrong with me. Why is everyone asking me that?"

"Sorry I asked. You know, sometimes I just don't understand what's going on around here."

"I'm sorry, Martha. I guess I've just been tired. I think I'm going to pass on breakfast and go upstairs to work." She rose from the table, picked up her coffee, and kissed the children on the tops of their heads. "Goodbye, children. Have a good day at school."

"Bye mom," they answered in unison.

***********

The morning dragged on forever and faded into a dismal afternoon. She had sat at her typewriter for hours, and yet there were no ideas coming, no thoughts except for those of how a certain sea captain wasn't appearing. How he wasn't eagerly giving his ideas for inappropriate stories for her ladies magazine articles. How he had been so upset with her the night before. After all, how bad would it be to tell him about the dream? The worst part would be that she would be admitting to him how she felt. But he probably already knew that by how she looked at him sometimes, how her eyes lingered on his face, his eyes. And she had seen some of that back from him - wistful looks, ones where he seemed to be trying to tell her secrets from deep inside of him. Maybe he would understand. Maybe he would think the same way about it as she did.

But the children would be coming home soon. The major discussion would have to wait until later tonight. The apology, however, could happen now.

"Captain?" She waited, but there was no reply. "Captain? I'd like to apologize. Won't you please appear?"

The voice came from behind her. "Are you armed?"

She smiled and turned to face him. "The pillows are all locked up." He was standing by the fireplace mantle, leaning on it with one arm.

"Captain, I want to apologize. You were right all along. There was a dream that was bothering me, and I _would_ like to talk to you about it. That part of the discussion, I think, should wait until tonight, because the children are due home any minute. But I did want to put things right between us now. Will you forgive me for being so difficult?"

"Certainly, Madam." He stepped towards her. "And I apologize for being so obstinate about you telling me your dream."

"Thank you, Captain. I forgive you."

"Although I was right in that you should have told me everything from the beginning of our squabble."

"Yes, well…"

"And I was right in the idea that you can confront whatever was in your dream."

"Yes, so…'

"And I was right in.."

"Captain!" I think that's enough of your being right for now."

"Yes. Well then," he adjusted his cuffs. "Until later tonight, Madam."

"Until later tonight, Captain." She turned away and rolled her eyes as he disappeared from the room

***********

Now it was the late afternoon's turn to take forever in passing. The children's homework dragged with each math problem. The afternoon cookies were chewed a hundred times each bite before swallowing. Dinner seemed to be the proverbial watched pot that never boiled. The children's bathwater took years to get to the bathroom, and even longer to fill the tub. Tonight's chapter of the bedtime story was the longest ever written. Finally, finally, all else was done, and the matter of the evening could be attended to. She approached her room with an over-beating heart and a churning stomach. This conversation could go many directions. Some of those directions might lead to her departure from Gull Cottage. Some might lead to…well, she wasn't sure at all. She reached and grabbed the doorknob, but hesitated. Taking a full breath, she turned the knob, opened the door, and stepped into the room. Ahead of her, facing the fireplace and framed by the light of the flames, was the Captain. He stood in silence staring at the fire, even though she was sure he knew she had come in. He, too, apparently sensed this was to be an important conversation.

"Captain," she said as she walked up to him.

"Mrs. Muir," he said as he turned and faced her. "I though you might enjoy a cup of hot chocolate, so I arranged to have some brought up." He motioned to a small table by the chairs.

"Thank you, Captain. That would be nice," and it would give her time to decide how to start this conversation.

He poured a cup and handed it to her. She took it and sipped. She didn't know how he did it, whether he made it himself or gave Martha a suggestion, but it was always good. She took a deep breath and looked at the Captain, who was now seated in a nearby armchair.

"Captain, I didn't tell you all of the dream I had when I was sick. All that you said describing it yesterday was true, but there was more. Something I left out. And I need to tell you about that before I tell you about my latest dream." She focused on the cup in her lap and nervously rubbed the handle with her thumb.

"Please continue, Mrs. Muir. You may tell me anything you need to." He caught a look in her eyes as she quickly glanced up at his concerned face. Her eyes held worry, and weariness, and even a small amount of fear, if he was reading them right.

"You did waltz beautifully," she smiled at the cup, "and I could feel you holding me, just like I've imagined it might be. And then we stopped dancing, and…" She stopped.

"Madam. It's alright," he said very softly.

"and we _almost_ kissed. We would have, I think, except that stupid Mrs. Colburn had to faint from the ague and require your immediate attention." With that, she looked up into his eyes… his eyes, which were laughing silently above a large smile, which, fortunately for him, was not making any laughing noises of its own.

Her eyes flashed with anger. "It's not funny!" She stood up abruptly, put her cup on the table, and prepared to storm out of the room. He rose quickly as well, and positioned himself directly in front of her.

"Madam," he said, now restrained in demeanor. "You are right. It is not funny. Forgive me, please. I was just caught off guard. Please. Sit. Continue." She plopped down into the chair, set her elbow on the armrest, touched her fingers to her face, and stared into the fire.

"Madam, I beg you, continue."

She took a deep breath. "The second dream was different from the first. I didn't start at Gull Cottage. I rode up in a horse drawn carriage. You were there to greet me, in your dress uniform, of course." She smiled at the memory, and let herself quickly glance at the captain. He was gazing at her so intently, she had to break the look and return to staring at the fire.

"When I came out of the carriage, you gently grabbed me on both sides of my waist and lifted me down to the ground like I was a feather, with no effort at all. I can still remember your touch…" Her voice drifted off for a moment. "Anyway, the yard was decorated with Japanese lanterns, like before, there were refreshments like before, but there were no other people except for a quartet up on the porch playing waltz music.

I have to say, Captain, that you really do waltz beautifully in my dreams. I expect that you really were good at that in real life, weren't you?"

His response to her question was only a smile.

"We danced and danced until it was almost dawn. I needed to leave, to go home, although I'm not sure where home was supposed to be. You offered me your arm to escort me to my carriage, and I linked both hands around it as we walked. We stopped and faced each other as I thanked you for the most wonderful time ever. And that's when your face came down to mine," she closed her eyes, "and you kissed me." Her fingers came up, and she gently touched her lips. "It was a most wonderful kiss…soft, lingering." She opened her eyes and looked at him, and he could see the tears welled up in them. "So real."

"Madam, I…I don't know what to say." If her eyesight had been clear, she would have seen tears welled up in his eyes also.

"That dream," she continued, "was both the most wonderful dream I've had, and the most heart-wrenching, to know it can never come true. And there lies the thing that distresses me about it."

They were both quiet and could not look at each other. The fire crackled and hissed in vain, like it had something to tell them but could not make them understand. She finally spoke first.

"Well Captain, any way to fix that dream?" She closed her eyes, this time in exhaustion.

"Not to fix the dream, but perhaps to fix the situation."

She looked at him in curiosity. "What do you mean?"

"Madam, as long as I am here, I am taking up your time and your energy that you should be giving to someone of flesh and blood. Someone who can really hold you in their arms, who can really kiss…your…lips." With saying that, he allowed himself one last look at her beautiful face. "I need to leave Gull Cottage. That way you will be free of my interfering with your normal life."

"Captain Gregg!" She was caught totally by surprise.

"You are young and beautiful. You should be out finding yourself another husband while you can. I must leave…" and with that, he waved his arms and disappeared.

She bolted into a standing position and stamped her foot. "Captain Daniel Tobias Gregg! You get back here right this instant! I mean it! Don't you leave me like this! I'm not done talking with you! I mean it! You get back here _right now_!" Later she would wonder why her yelling didn't waken the children. She certainly felt like she was yelling to wake the dead. And yet, he didn't come back. She rested her head on her arms on the mantle and began to cry, now softly calling his name. She had made a royal mess of things just by telling him of her dream. Now there would be no more dreams, no more dear friendship that was so important to her everyday existence. No one else had ever compared to him - his stature, his stories, even his temper were unique. How could she ever see anyone else? What a terrible situation. And then…

"Madam, really. Do I look like a Tobias?"

She raised her pink, swollen eyes at him and smiled. Even in the condition she was in, she still looked beautiful. "No, you don't. I just needed a middle name to make it sound more authoritative."

"And that you were, madam. That you were." He stepped towards her and continued to speak as if his leaving had never happened. "You know, I've been thinking about how to solve your distress with this dream. I mentioned once that dreams can be lovely only while they last, but perhaps I was wrong. Maybe their memory can bring comfort and happiness until…the next pleasant dream. Like a cherished old photograph and a memory of a loved one." He looked at her sheepishly.

"It is true, Captain, that I still hold the memory of your Christmas dream in my heart. It still makes me smile when I think back to it," she said, hope welling up inside of her.

"I know I told you we should be able to confront this dream situation, to fix it." He stepped closer. "Perhaps I can by, well, influencing your dreams now and then. With your permission and suggestions, of course. You know, some cultures even consider the dream world to be the reality."

She smiled more broadly now. "I think I could live with that fix, captain. Within boundaries, of course."

"Of course, madam. I am a gentleman after all."

***********

They had left the conversations about what type and how often for the dreams for another time. They finished up the evening talking and laughing about how Scruffy would always give the Captain's presence away when they were trying to give him a surprise birthday party. By the time she and the Captain said their goodnights, she was completely exhausted. She changed as quickly as her tired body would allow, and collapsed into bed.

She felt as if she had just fallen asleep when she heard the Captain's voice.

"Madam…madam, wake up"

She raised one hand to her face and rubbed her eyes. "What is it, Captain? Is everything alright?"

"Yes, everything is fine. I need you to get up. I have something I need you to see." He stood at the side of her bed, leaning over towards her.

"Captain, really," she looked at the clock, "It's three in the morning."

"Please, Mrs. Muir." Even in the faint light, she could see the importance of the matter written on his face.

"Alright," she said, puzzled. What could be so important at this hour? She got out of bed and put on her robe.

"Your slippers, too, madam," he motioned.

"Okay," she said in a resigned but sleepy voice as she slipped them on.

"Come, follow me." He led the way out to the balcony. She followed him, and when they were both outside in the cool night air, regarded him with curiosity. He locked eyes with her for a moment, and then said, "Look," as he motioned with his head and eyes towards the sky.

She looked up at the sky, and her breath hitched in her throat. There, above her, were the millions of twinkling lights of the Milky Way, brighter than she had ever seen before. "Captain, it's beautiful. I've never seen it so intense." Her gaze moved about the scene, her mouth slightly open in wonder.

"Keep watching," he instructed, as his gaze remained on her. In a short while, a streak lit the sky and gave a burst of light before disappearing. He heard her intake of air at the sight, and smiled. She turned her eyes to him for a moment, and smiled back at him.

"I can't believe how beautiful it is. Thank you for waking me up." As she looked back to the heavens, she gave a small shudder.

"Madam, you are cold. Here, take my coat," he offered as he unbuttoned his jacket.

"Ha, very funny, Captain. Thanks anyway. I'm not too bad."

He took his coat off and draped it around her shoulders, and surprisingly, she felt its weight on her body. She could smell a faint smell of pipe tobacco and something like the sea. And then she realized…she was in a dream. She snuggled up in his jacket, pulling the collar closer around her neck so she could inhale the scent, smiling contentedly. It was so real. Real enough, she decided.

*****************

The next morning Carolyn bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen, almost running into Martha and her pot of steaming hot coffee.

"Whoa there, Mrs. Muir. I'm afraid you're going to end up with scalding coffee on you, and that's no way for me to get a raise."

"Sorry, Martha. I didn't see you in time," she said as Martha filled her coffee cup. "Good morning, children."

"Morning mom," came Candy's reply, while Jonathan mumbled something over a stuffed mouth.

"I have to say Mrs. Muir, that you look very well rested this morning. Not like yesterday when you looked so bedraggled."

"Well thank you, I think, Martha. I did have a very good night's sleep."

"That's good. Come on kids, the bus is here. Hurry up." Both of the children kissed their mother and rushed out of the kitchen, Martha in hot pursuit with lunch boxes.

The captain materialized in one of the kitchen chairs. "Good morning, madam. I trust you had pleasant dreams last night," he said with a smirk.

"Good morning, Captain. Very pleasant dreams, indeed, thank you."

"I have to say that this whole matter has made me contemplate the possibilities for the dream world. Perhaps I can visit Claymore on occasion." His eyes flashed and he smiled a wicked grin. "Or what about you, Scruffy? How about a nice little dream with a postman or two?"

"Captain, don't get carried away, please."

"As you wish, madam, as you wish." He smiled his most charming smile at her, and she realized just how happy she was at how things worked out.


End file.
